Heartbroken
by BlueberryMuffins76
Summary: Dragon fire meets Thranduil firsthand. Arabesque looks on, life as she knows it now over. Read more to find out about the Elvenking's scar.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: As much as I wish I did, I own no Tolkien characters or places. Arabesque, Haurog, and Fairion are my OC's. This story was inspired by Alan Maki's "Written on Her Heart."_

* * *

Deep indigo tail scales rubbed his leg where the slash in his robes and trousers exposed his bare skin. The creature turned around and raised on its hind legs, mouth open. Red-orange flames shot out before he had time to think, to move out of the way. He succeeded in rolling onto his right side, the left half of his body receiving the scorching fire. A feminine scream sounded across the field and his heart stopped beating as Haugor the fire-drake flapped his wings and swooped away. He tried to call out a warning, but the words stuck in his throat as he coughed and moaned in pain. The world swirled black before him and he fought its oppressive grip on his chest, trying to stop his eyes from rolling back in his head as the world faded away and he lost all consciousness.

* * *

Arabesque screamed as she beheld the giant dragon incinerate her husband, powerless to do anything. Then the beautiful indigo creature flew towards her, its scaly wings rippling gently in the light, cool breeze. She stood still, awed at the magnificent sight, her blue eyes beholding the powerful, magnificent beast. The drake kept flapping over her head, its huge black talons grabbing her as he went back towards his mountain home. A shriek flew from her mouth and the other elves let off a volley of arrows, which glanced harmlessly off the tough scales. Hot tears streamed down her face as the worm carried her up to its nasty hole, located on a large mountain point which could only be accessed by flying creatures.

Haugor plopped her down in the middle of his lair and faced her. "There, there, my pretty. Do not cry."

His voice surprised her, tinted with a hint of compassion, deep and rich as though it were an audible incarnation of a beautiful sapphire gem. Her tears fell harder and she curled up into a little ball, hugging her legs against her chest and rocking back and forth.

The dragon gently lifted a talon and trailed it down her back in an almost comforting motion. "Little Elvenqueen, look at me."

She did so, afraid to cross him. "What? My life is over! My husband is dead, and you are going to eat me!"

"No, I am not. I only want your jewels."

"Jewels? Which ones?"

"The infamous Gems of Eryn Lasgalen."

"What? No!" she shrieked, her hand grabbing to protect the jewwelss at her throat as she coiled back from his constant petting.

"Give them to me and I will release you and never bother your kingdom."

"But Thr...My husband gave them to me! They belonged to his Naneth!"

Haugor stiffened and sat straight, glaring at her. "You have two choices. Give me the jewels and live with your remaining people, or refuse to give them to me and die. Your stinking little hole shall be consumed with fire, your people burnt alive while I watch their pain. I will give you two days to think about it." He turned and lay down at the mouth of the cave, the only entrance.

Sighing, she crawled to a corner of the cave and curled up, afraid to sleep. However, her body forced her to enter that dormant state. Two days later, Haugor stood before her as she shook.

"Well? What is your decision?"

"You may...have the jewels," she sighed, utterly dejected. Slowly she unfastened the white gems encased in mithril from her neck and laid them on the floor, then took three giant steps backwards as she faced the fell beast.

"Thank you, my pretty." He picked them up and examined them, then turned back to her. "Now I will take you home. The rest of your kin have already fled there." He dropped the jewels into his small treasure stash and once more gripped her in his strong, black talons.

Closing her eyes, she remained limp as they flew over forest and fountain back to the palace in Mirkwood. Almost tenderly, Haurog set her down at the palace gates and whooshed away before the sentries could attack him.

"Elvenqueen Arabesque, are you alright?" they shouted, helping her into the safety of the palace.

"I am physically fine." She pushed them away, knowing she needed to eat to regain her strength, especially since the indigo dragon had only given her a little water. Her stomach roiled inside her, the very thought of food turning sour in her stomach, fervently hoping to find her husband in his throne room as she ran towards it. She had to find out if he...No, she could not face that thought yet.

Bursting into the room, she looked around and found it empty. She walked up the steps to the stone throne where her beloved normally seated himself, always regal, composed, and more beautiful that any other living being. Her hands caressed the soft curves of the seat and tears formed in her eyes. "Thranduil, Melethnîn!" she moaned.

Lord Fairion, the second-in-command, quietly walked up beside her. "Queen Arabesque, is there anything I can do?"

Turning, she sobbed into his chest. "Did you...recover the...remains?"

He held her close like he would his sister, giving her the strength and support she needed. "No. I am sorry. I do not think there was much left."

Her tears fell harder and she could not speak, so he simply held her a few minutes. Then he let go. "Your Majesty, we need to let the people know you are here and safe. That you will be ruling the kingdom."

"Yes, I suppose we do…" she stated, eyes glazed over as she stared at some invisible object between her and the entrance.

"But first we should have the healers look over you."

"Alright," she sighed, letting him lead her away.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: I love hearing from my readers! Constructive criticism is wonderful. Thank you for reading!**_

* * *

Moaning, Thranduil tried to roll over on something that, although soft and quite comfortable, did not feel like his normal bed. It didn't smell right either; his wife's soft, feminine scent strangely absent from her place against him. A rustle sounded beside him and his right eye popped open to behold a disheveled, bearded man. The Elvenking's left eye had some sort of soft fabric over it and he winced at the pain behind his eye, wondering what had happened, why his left side screeched in invisible, soundless pain.

"You must be careful," the wizard chirped. "You were injured quite badly and I was not sure you would make it until now."

He moaned again and found a wooden cup pressed gently to his lips as the wizened creature offered him some tea. Thranduil swallowed a small mouthful, then took several more sips. Finding his voice, he tied to sit up again as he spoke, only to be gently pushed back down. "Arabesque?" he inquired, longing for her to be the one by his side.

"She is fine. Safe inside the palace with nary a scratch on her. But you cannot be moved yet."

Another stream of pain shot through the Elvenking's left side, running from his foot all the way to the top of his head. The memories rushed back to him and he knew he suffered serious burns. "Radagast, is there anything you can do for…"

The wizard gave a sad look. "The burns will heal over time. The tea is mostly willow bark, which will ease your pain. You will always bear the scars. Your face got the worst of it, being unprotected."

"My…face?" He moaned again, trying to roll over.

"Yes. I am sorry. Once you are fully healed, I can give you some tricks to hide it. But it will always be there underneath." He administered more of the healing tea and tended his wounds again, applying herbal pastes and fresh cloths.

"My wife…I cannot face her…like this. Ever."

"Why? She loves you, does she not?"

"Yes. But her heart would be broken to know I am no longer physically her equal in beauty. Elves admired us for how well we matched each other, both in personality and in appearance. She is just as beautiful as one of the Valier, likely more so."

Radagast frowned. "If she truly loves you, your looks will not matter to her."

"Just stop!" Thranduil growled, all the various birds and animals who had been faithfully watching over him jumping and quaking at the display of anger.

"You must not upset yourself. Get more rest. We will talk when you recover."

Sighing, the Elf King obediently closed his good eye and rested again, sensing life as he knew it was over.

* * *

"I am the Queen! I am going and that is final. No arguments." Arabesque glared at Fairion as he watched her strap a sword to her waist.

"Then please allow me to accompany you, your Majesty."

"Fine. But remember, I am Elvenqueen of Greenwood, and my word is to be obeyed."

"Yes, your Majesty." He belted on his own weapons and trailed his obstinate queen as she stalked out the door, headed towards the gates. Try as he might, he could not stop her form taking her daily trips into the forest to search for the dragon who had consumed her precious husband. She determined to have her vengeance on the creature, to slay it with her own bare hands.

"Naneth, don't leave me!" a little voice called and a flaxen head buried itself into her abdomen, softly crying.

She put her arms around her young son, Legolas. "Shh, Ionnîn. Naneth must go and avenge your Ada."

"But what if something happens to you?" he sobbed.

"I will be fine. Lord Fairion and the guards do a fine job looking out for me. I will be back this evening," she promised, kissing his forehead and releasing him before he could protest further. She and Fairion walked out of the gates, the metal resounding behind them in a loud clang.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: I love hearing from my readers! Constructive criticism is wonderful. Thank you for reading!**_

* * *

 _50 years later_

"Naneth, may I join you today?" Legolas asked, confident in his sword-fighting capabilities, which were now almost as good as his father's had been.

She frowned at the elf who looked enough like his Ada to break her heart. "We go through this every day. The answer is still no."

"But Naneth," he started, silenced with a glare.

"You are needed to run the kingdom. Stay here and attend your studies. I love you too much to be able to bear losing you also, Ionnîn."

"Yes, Naneth. Be careful," he warned, hugging her.

She gave him a grim smile before returning the embrace and exiting with her faithful companion, Lord Fairion.

However, the evening wore on and Legolas kept careful watch on the paths. His mother had never been this late before. Then he spotted a lone figure in the distance and ran out to meet it. "Lord Fairion, where is Naneth?"

The second-in-command limped into the palace, helped by the Elvenprince. "I…I am sorry. I lost her. I twisted my ankle and she insisted I return, assuring me she would go just a little farther before coming back. I expected her to beat me here."

"No! Tell me everything," Legolas commanded as they made their way to the healers.

Fairion obliged and they discussed matters as the healers bound his ankle, the high ones' faces grim.

An elf appeared in the doorway. "Prince Legolas, Lord Fairion, you are needed at the gates," he requested.

Giving each other puzzled looks, they hurried back as fast as they could without causing further injury to Fairion's bad ankle.

Radagast and a handsome flaxen-haired elf stood in the doorway. "Legolas, Ionnîn," the elf exclaimed, smiling.

"A…Ada?" Before he knew it, the prince became caught in a warm embrace.

A tear shone in the Elvenking' right eye as he beheld his adult son. "You have grown. You take after your Naneth."

"Thank you. Naneth, where is she?"

Wizard and Elf King exchanged a look. "Come to the healers with us," Thranduil commanded, his face hard, determined, more worn than Legolas recalled. "You as well, Fairion."

They made their way back to the healing wing of the palace and had Legolas sit. Radagast took his hands in his own and began chanting. Legolas stared into his eyes, which were glazed-over, and found his own shutting against his will. Five minutes later, a soft snore escaped his lips as he moved into a deep sleep, more like a human than an elf.

"Lay him on a bed," the Elvenking ordered. "He will wake in a few hours."

Fairion frowned. "King Thranduil, do you mind explaining?"

"Come to the throne room and take counsel with me."

Once more befuddled, the sandy-haired elf obeyed and they gathered around the Elvenking's throne, he looking as at home and in place as ever. Even in his tattered clothes, he retained his regal, powerful aura. "Lord Fairion, why did you leave my wife alone in the forest?"

"I did not want to separate from her, your Majesty. I sprained my ankle and she insisted I return to the palace while she went on a bit farther."

A dark look crossed Thranduil's hard face. "I will not blame you for what happened, melonnîn."

"What…happened? What do you mean?"

"My wife is dead." The cold, hard truth rolled off his tongue, a metallic clink in the thick air, his tone harsh and unfeeling.

Fairion gasped. "How?"

"That foul beast, Haurog. But he shall slay no more elves. May Mandos torture him in eternal flame forever!"

"No! Please, I need to know the whole story."

"Yes. Have some refreshments sent in."

He did so and the threesome sat down to the gruesome tale.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: I love hearing from my readers! Constructive criticism is wonderful. Thank you for reading!**_

* * *

 _The outskirts of Mirkwood Forest_

Thranduil stayed with Radagast, helping him tend the forest after he healed physically from his wounds. He learned more about the flora and fauna than he had ever thought possible. The wizard tried daily for twenty years to convince him to return to Greenwood Palace before giving up, at last content to cede to his help. Thranduil always refused, saying his wife could never truly love him again. He took to strolling the forest, letting his grief and anger build inside of him.

Try as he might, the Elvenking could not erase his wife's memories from his mind. Every night his dreams plagued him with images of her, the way her soft curves melted against his own, the way her gentle lips felt as they caressed his. Then he heard her scream, a horrific sound of someone's heart being ripped out of her chest, yet leaving her alive. He would sit up, sweat dripping down his face and back, breathless, staring into space. Soon he gave up sleep altogether, finding it too painful, yet her cries ever echoing in his mind.

Fifty years with Radagast went by and one day Thranduil roamed further into Mirkwood than usual, despairing over the oppressive gloom that had settled there. It pressed on him as deeply as the darkness in his mind, constantly suffocating him. Then he beheld a lovely vision. His wife, his beautiful, dainty-yet-feisty Elvenqueen Arabesque, stood straight and tall several yards away, hand poised on her sword hilt as her eyes roamed back and forth.

He longed to go near her, to hold her in his arms and embrace her once more. To feel her soft, gentle lips caress his own. But the animals and Radagast were the only ones who did not mind the hideous scar that covered the left side of his face. Even though he had it hidden right now, he knew if he got upset it would show and frighten her. She could not possibly be real anyway; his mind was playing tricks on him, as usual. Despite himself, his hand reached towards her.

Stopping, she looked straight at him, then walked towards him. "Oh Thranduil, Melethnîn, I miss you. So very much. My heart is torn in twain, never to be repaired. My life is nothing without you," she lamented, and he knew she did not see him.

He struggled to hold his emotions in check, longing to hold her yet fearing her reaction when she learned of his marred complexion. This was the most real vision yet. She could not possibly love him still, yet the mournful tone in her voice…Yes, she had to be really here, standing before his. Bracing himself, he stepped out form behind the bushes that had hitherto concealed him, his love for her conquering his doubts and fears. "Arabesque, Melethnîn," he said softly, holding his hand towards her.

She gasped and held a hand to her chest. "Oh Eru, please. No games! I cannot bear it!"

He smiled and took another step towards her. "Meleth, this is no dream, unless I am having a vision as well."

"Melethnîn," she sighed, closing the gap between them. She found herself in his arms, then his lips pressed hers, hungry yet giving at the same time. After several minutes, they broke apart yet remained holding hands, gazing into each other's eyes. "Where were you, Meleth? Why did you leave me alone to raise our _ion_? I thought you were dead!" she accused, a mixture of hurt and relief flashing in her deep blue eyes.

"Haurog injured me, Melethnîn. Radagast helped me but could not fully heal me."

"Meleth, my poor Meleth," she crooned, tenderly brushing her right hand against the left side of his face.

He winced and grabbed her hand away. "Meleth, you need to see." He stepped back, a sad look on his face.

"Melethnîn, it is fine. Whatever happened, it is fine. I am upset that you left me alone all these years, but I will never stop loving you." She bridged the gap, only to have him step further away.

"You will take your words back when you see," he spat out bitterly and decisively. Before she could say anything else, he let his face transform. His normally bright cornflower blue left eye turned cloudy and murky. The fair skin gave way to exposed sinew, muscle, and bone, the wound looking as raw and fresh as the day he got it.

"Oh Meleth," she crooned, stepping up to him and putting her arms around him. Then she stretched on her toes and tenderly kissed the left side of his face. When she finished, she nuzzled against his strong chest. "Meleth, your scars are beautiful to me. They are visible reminders of how brave and strong you are." She looked at him, her eyes sincere.

"Melethnîn, how can you say that?"

"Because I know and love you. The you that is in here," she laid a gentle hand on his chest, his heart lightly pounding underneath it. "You are still my beautiful, precious Thranduil, inside and out."

He sighed and kissed her again, his heart finally at ease.

Thump. A giant creature landed in front of them and swaggered closer. "Ah. I see the sniveling Elven Royals are reunited at last."

Arabesque screamed and whipped out her sword, Thranduil pulling his own blade out of its scabbard as he simultaneously pushed her behind himself.

Haurog laughed and pushed his big face into that of the Elvenking. "Did she tell you she betrayed you?"

Thranduil glared and put a protective arm around his wife. "I am not listening to you lies. She would never do such a thing."

A large black talon dangled the famous jewels of Eryn Lasgalen in the Elf King's face, his mother's lovely prized possession. "It will grieve you then to learn she gave these up for her own life and that of your kingdom."

Frowning, Thranduil examined the exquisite necklace, its white gems glimmering in the sun. "Naneth would have approved, as do I. I would much rather have my wife and people than any gem."

The large indigo dragon guffawed. "Always faithful to that cheating wife of yours. Do you know how many times she has been out here alone with Lord Fairion? How often he finds little ways to touch her?"

The King turned to the Queen, hurt and betrayal reflecting in his eyes. "Well?"

"Melethnîn, it was never inappropriate. He treated me like a sister, as always. I would have come out alone, but he insisted on accompanying me. I knew you would want me to be safe, to have protection." He lovely orbs reflected the truth in her words, and her husband's face softened. He knew his wife and best friend would never betray him.

"I trust you, Meleth. Where is he now?"

"I sent him home. He twisted his ankle and I did not want him to injure it more than necessary caring for me. I was not ready to return for the day and insisted on going a little further, hoping today would be the day."

Rushing forward, the dragon separated them with his giant forefoot. "Enough. I see nothing I can say will separate you. However," he paused and sat up straight, his voice taking on a sinister edge, "since I failed to rid the world of the renowned Elvenking Thranduil, we shall have to amend matters."

"Run, Arabesque!" Thranduil yelled, simultaneously slashing at the large left foot.

Haurog laughed, took one large step, and opened his mouth. Fire consumed the Elvenqueen, roasting her alive before swallowing her whole. Only charred remains of her once-blonde hair remained where she had stood seconds beforehand.

"No!" Thranduil bellowed, stabbing at the fire-worm again. He dodged the wild tail-thrashing, avoiding being crushed by a foot as he searched for the opportunity to plunge his sword into the fell beast's chest. The minutes ticked by and at last the drake crouched down and bared his teeth, hot flames sparking forth. Seizing the moment, the Elvenking rushed forward and jabbed his blade in between the paler indigo scales on Haurog's chest. Black blood spewed forth and an unearthly shriek filled the air. Leaving his weapon buried in dragon flesh, Thranduil pulled out his second sword and jumped out of the way as the creature thrashed around in his dying breaths. He witnessed the light leave his eyes and the twitches fade away into nothing.

Face grim, the Elvenking pulled his sword out of the body and cleaned it off, then traversed to the site where he last beheld his lovely wife. He noticed the charred hair and painstakingly gather up every last piece, wrapping them in his handkerchief and placing it next to his heart. His knees buckled under him and he wept bitterly, alone in this world once more.

A rustle sounded a while later and he looked up, eyes filled with grief and glazed over. Radagast drew nearer. "King Thranduil? Are you alright?"

"No!" he snapped.

The wizard appeared unfazed, used to his short temper. "I see you caught up to the fell beast at last."

"Yes." He parted his robe, drawing out and opening the handkerchief to show him the only piece of his wife he had left, besides their only child.

"Your Majesty, I am sorry. Will you let me accompany you to the palace? They need to know."

Thranduil took a deep breath, nostrils flaring as he exhaled. "Yes. My life is ruined. Things cannot possibly get any worse." First his beauty taken, now his wife.

The disheveled old man said nothing but silently walked back with him in brooding contemplation most of the way until they neared the palace. Then they discussed how to break the news to Legolas.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: I love hearing from my readers! Constructive criticism is wonderful. Thank you for reading!**_

* * *

"Do you understand now, Fairion?" Thranduil concluded, allowing deep dejection to fill his beautiful cornflower blue eyes.

"Yes, except for one thing. What did you do to Prince Legolas, Radagast?"

"I altered his memories. When he awakes he will not remember his mother. Instead, everything she did will be replaced with King Thranduil." *****

"We agreed it would be better for him this way. Fairion, you are forbidden to speak of this matter with anyone excepting myself and Radagast."

"Yes, your Majesty. Will you ever tell the Prince?"

"No!" Blue eyes flashed as Thranduil stood. "He is to know nothing, only that his Naneth is dead. No one is to speak of her, and if they so much as mention her name, you are to deport them to Rivendell at once."

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Radagast, you are dismissed. Thank you for your help. Fairion, see that he gets anything he needs."

"Your health is my reward," the wizard answered. "Thank you. Call on me should you ever need anything."

"Thank you." They grasped hands, then the Elvenking remained alone in the throne room, pondering his next meeting with his son. A coldness settled into his eyes to hide the pain and to make him look strong, though deep in his heart he held a wound so deep nothing could ever heal it.

* * *

Smaug glided over the forest, searching for an easy meal. His eyes detected the glimmer of jewels and his nostrils the scent of a dead dragon. Haurog, his father, lay dead. Emitting a huge growl, he cursed the elven filth that did this. His stomach growled again as he landed near the body. Then his appetite got the better of him and he bit off some of the cooling flesh. Hours later, only bones and other less-palatable body parts lay on the ground and he buried them.

The dragon's eyes landed on the shining necklace and he sauntered towards it, gripping it in his talons. He let out a loud laugh as he flew away towards Dale. His thoughts took him to the King Under the Mountain. He landed in the city, smack-dab in the middle of the town square. Women and children screamed and ran to the relative safety of their stone buildings while the men drew their swords and ran to the foe. None of them realized his appetite was stayed for now.

He let a stream of fire blow forth, being careful to not harm anyone but just touch the tips of his feet. "I must speak to King Thror under the mountain," he demanded.

King Girion strode forth, his face hard and showing no fear. "Tell me, master dragon of the glorious, fiery scales, why pray tell would you wish to speak to the King of Erebor?"

"My business is my own. Have him come down and speak to me. I promise your people will not be harmed." The king of Dale frowned in response, so the beast continued. "Go ahead, take council with your people. I am not moving until I see that dwarf!"

Sighing, the men spoke and a swift-footed man ran up the mountain. The minutes ticked by before a small army of dwarves descended towards the city, specks in the distance.

Smaug turned a flew upwards, flying to the dwarves and landing in front of them, wings outstretched as he stood on his hind legs. "King Thror, a pleasure."

"Hmph," the dwarf answered, his son and grandson frowning at their places on either side of him, hands on their weapons.

"I have a present for you." The dragon threw the necklace of Eryn Lasgalen in front of him, a dark twinkle in his eyes.

"Where did you acquire such a thing?"

"My business is my own. You know what to do with them."

Without waiting for a reply, he flapped away to his mountain lair, laughing. He knew the king would make trouble with Mirkwood. Once the two towns were no longer friends but enemies, he would claim the Lonely Mountain as his own. Then he would get all the jewels. Grinning, he settled into a deep sleep.

* * *

 ***Ehehe...I think someone must have watched Frozen just before she wrote this...**

 _ **A/N: Thank you for reading! I do hope it explains the movie, sad & gruesome though it may be. Please tell me your thoughts!**_


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